


Things You Said When It Was Over

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Post Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 23:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6927961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight years later, in Antiva, Sereda and Zevran close a chapter of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things You Said When It Was Over

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt list- "Things you said when it was over"

“How do you feel?” Sereda asks softly.  “It’s over.”

Zevran flexes his fingers and considers.  It’s been eight years since he left the Antivan Crows and his life changed for the better.  Eight years of watching his back, always expecting a blade in it (not that that's different from being in the Crows).  Seven years since he decided to take the fight back to the Crows (because the difference was in him; he wanted to live).  Five and a half years since Sereda joined him (even though he didn’t do this for her, she was the impetus).  

It’s been exhilarating and maddening and intoxicating, dismantling a whole assassin guild that also serves in lieu army.  They’ve killed a great deal of people, and blackmailed plenty as well.  He likes to remember it better than it was because he doesn’t like to remember all the times she almost died.

More than that, they’ve built up a little organization of their own.  Plenty of Crows had grievances with the organization already, and under his leadership, decided to fight back rather than be killed at their hand.  

There were also all the children, having undergone various amounts of training.  When he thinks of them, it makes him ache a little.  Both he and Sereda had worked hard to make sure the children had better fates than being pitted against each other or left vulnerable on the streets.  The funds they acquired from the guildmasters had certainly helped.

“I am not certain,” Zevran says, swallowing hard.  “No unnatural flashes of light this time.”

Maybe that’s why he’s not having a bigger emotional reaction.  A bright flash of light is a clear end.  A dead body with a dagger in his chest doesn’t make nearly as good of a story, especially when there have been plenty before.  But the world doesn’t always make good stories, he supposes.  It still feels like there should be  _ more _ .

“That’s probably a good thing, considering we didn’t do any dark rituals last night,” Sereda says with a laugh.  She pauses and takes his hand.  “Hey, look at me.”

Zevran does.  He takes in the sight of her, spattered with blood and smiling radiantly at him, even though her brow has furrowed in worry.  Her copper red hair is longer than when they met; now he can easily card his fingers through it and she has to keep it up during battle.  

Her tattoos sweep across her cheekbones and down the bridge of her nose.  The design is as familiar as the rest of her, and he’s found himself doodling it idly more than once over the years.  They make her look solid, which is fitting.  Hidden under her clothes are the tattoos that he’s given her over the years.

“You did it,” Sereda says.  “You dismantled the Antivan Crows.  There’s no one hunting you anymore.”

“We dismantled the Antivan Crows.  If you insist on giving me partial credit for helping end the Blight, I’ll be glad to return the favor,” Zevran says before she can protest.

Sereda grins and looks away.  “Fine.  We did it, together.”

“We can do whatever we want, now, without worrying about the Crows,” Zevran says dazedly.  “There’s no one trying to kill us, which is quite the change.”

Sereda laughs, squeezing his hand.  “If it makes you feel more at ease, I’m sure there’s  _ someone  _ out there who wishes we were dead.  Maybe not a darkspawn horde or an acting king or the most feared assassin guild in Thedas, but someone.”

“Quite true,” Zevran says, joining in her laughter.  “Although, after seeing what happened to those enemies, I’m certain they’ll be cautious about trying to kill us.”

“They had better be,” Sereda says.

Zevran worries his lip for a second, trying to figure out what to say.  “Thank you for everything that you have done.  There were plenty of other ways you could have spent these past five and a half years, and I would have understood.”

“Zevran, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you.  I love watching your beautiful, well-sculpted backside,” Sereda says, grinning at him.  How many times as he said that to her?  

He presses his lips to Sereda’s, and somehow she tastes even sweeter than normal.  There are no more people coming to kill them; the people who hurt him, hunted them, killed Rinna, they’re all dead.  

His whole life has largely consisted of one job after another, and now there’s… nothing.  He has no idea what to do next.  There’s no plan, no target.  

Working for Sereda and then himself was much more pleasant than working for the Crows, of course.  But the same structure persisted his entire life.  One job after another.  The foreign prospect of complete freedom is strangely stifling. 

“I’m not sure what we do now,” Zevran admits softly when they pull apart.  

They had never discussed their future seriously.  Even though they had dreamed of potential futures, it was always in the abstract.  Somehow he didn’t see this day coming, even though it’s what they’ve worked for.  

There’s always the organization of assassins at their disposal; they could go into business for themselves, but that doesn’t feel quite right to him.  That’s not what he wants, and he’s sure that that’s not what Sereda wants either.

Sereda smiles.  “We celebrate, I think.  And then... we do whatever we want.”

“We should travel,” Zevran says.  “For pure pleasure.”

Sereda’s eyes widen, and Zevran has a moment of bizarre terror.  Being terrified is an irrational reaction, and he knows it.  The woman has spent half a decade following him around Antiva, after all, and there were times when they stayed in disgusting hovels while being hounded by Crows.  Or, even worse, he had sent her to stay in disgusting hovels without him for one reason or another, which she had always teased him about.  It doesn’t seem likely that she’s suddenly going to turn her nose up at the prospect of traveling with him.

But Sereda is a grand earthquake of a woman.  She’s gathered armies, ended a Blight, become the Hero of Ferelden, and a Paragon (which, he used to think was synonymous with goddess, but he’s learned better over the years.  Her being a goddess had made perfect sense to him, however).  That she’s a princess is the least impressive of her many titles.  Then, she rebuilt an order, gained the love of her people, and helped him dismantle the Antivan Crows.  Her list of accomplishments is like no other.

Maybe just traveling around for fun isn’t enough for her.  Or maybe, like him, the thought of not having a mission or a task to complete is more than slightly overwhelming.  They’ve both been task driven their whole lives.  

Then, Sereda smiles and he’s filled with relief.  A radiant smile stretches across her face like dawn.  It’s as if she can’t quite believe it, and he understands the feeling.  

“We can just go somewhere.  You and me.  Anywhere.  Because we want to,” Sereda says slowly.  “Where do you want to go?”

Zevran kneels so they’re at eye level and pulls her close.  Her arms wrap around him tight and she nuzzles her face against his neck.  She loves him with a ferocity that he wouldn’t believe if he didn’t match her feelings.  

“I never thought that a day like this would come,” Zevran murmurs.  “I always thought that my life would be subject to the whims of other people, in one way or another.”

“The only whims you’re subject to now is your own,” Sereda says, voice vibrating through him.  

Zevran pulls back and presses their foreheads together with a contented sigh.  “Let’s celebrate, my dear Sereda.  Let’s celebrate and start living our life together.”

* * *

“To us, my love,” Sereda says, raising her flask of ale.  “But only because I know you won’t let me toast you alone.”

They’re sitting on the roof of their house, where they have an excellent view of Rialto Bay.  Zevran always tries to find places with water views, because he knows how much Sereda loves them.  It was especially important for this house because when he procured it, he knew that they would be here when it ended.

The warm air feels so good against his skin, and everything feels just a little better than it did a few hours ago.  From the cool glass of brandy in his hand to the sound of water crashing against the shore, it’s all so much brighter now.  

Zevran chuckles and nods in agreement, because she’s right.  Even though he started this without her and he kept up leadership when she joined him in Antiva, they did this together.  Besides, it’s a delightful bit of revenge for all her modesty over ending the Blight.  

“To us, Sereda,” Zevran says, clinking their drinks together before taking a swig.  


End file.
